from what I've tasted of desire
by Henna Laru
Summary: Apocalypse: not averted. The angels are going to let God's creation be destroyed, and Castiel is going down with Team Free Will. Written with slash pairing in mind, but can be read as intense friendship i.e. no sex-having, sorry. Rating for language. Title: Robert Frost's Fire and Ice.
1. Chapter 1

Major premise: If I owned Supernatural™ it would be written into Jensen & Misha's contracts that they must participate in cast-orgy parties.

Minor premise: I still have time to write and read sappy fanfiction.

Conclusion: There must not be Supernatural™ orgies for me to attend to, so I must not own Supernatural™.

AN: I don't buy the whole weaseling-out-of-the-bloody-apocalypse thing. I think it, like the resurrection of Spike in Angel, is more about money and reviews and new seasons than anything else. Nonetheless I owe the continuation of the show to this decision, so all is forgiven. Still, I think all paychecks aside it would have gone down a little something more like this:

DW/C[AOTL]

"Explaining freedom to angels is a bit like teaching poetry to fish." ~Castiel

When Castiel fell, he fell hard. For this pathetic little ape, sprawled on the mattress; this man-creature that thought himself capable of out-running destiny; this hairless chimp that had convinced an angel of The Lord into breaking all of the rules, into throwing orders out the window and caving to Dean's every whim. It was because of the nature of man, Castiel suspected. Man created in God's image, capable of many things, but convinced of even greater.

This slumbering, snoring, drooling mess. Castiel suspected himself to be in love. Maybe with humanity, or maybe just with this bow-legged oaf that thought it was his duty to save the rest of them.

Dean rolled over in his sleep and Castiel left with the fluttering of wings.


	2. Chapter 2

Major premise: If I owned Supernatural™ Gabriel would be alive, for he is the only angel with no stick up his ass. [Except maybe Castiel later on, but nonetheless I cannot see Castiel as a prankster.]

Minor premise: All remaining angels seem to have sticks up their asses.

Conclusion: I must not own Supernatural™.

DW/C[AOTL]

"I think the world's going to end bloody. But it doesn't mean we shouldn't fight. We do have choices. I choose to go down swingin'." ~Dean

Dean had lost so much. The only fixture in his life that was left was Castiel. But Castiel, try as he might, could not fill the whole Sam had left in his heart.

Sometimes Dean would pace and yell, locked up in the little motel room. He would scream in Cas' face, horrible things.

"Coward! Lucifer's wearing Sammy's meat-suit like a fucking party dress and we sit here and what? Wait for the fucking end of all time?"

Dean didn't mean it. He knew Cas was as frustrated as he. But when Cas reminded him gently, with a hurt in his blue eyes that Dean shrugged off, that they were waiting for an opportunity to strike; Dean couldn't bring himself to believe Cas. With Lucifer and Michael battling it out through Sammy and Adam, they didn't stand a chance. Sometimes Dean just wanted to step out and let the first thing that came, kill him.

He stayed for Castiel. The angel of The Lord with the puppy-dog eyes who had given everything for him. If Cas said to wait, that they were saving their fighting for an even battle, Dean would let him say it. Perhaps the illusion of a fighting chance, of going down flailing and landing punches, was all that kept either of them going.

Cas was all he had left. He didn't know why Cas had stayed by his side, but he was grateful though his harsh words and actions might deceive. Cas wasn't Sammy, though.

Dean knew that whoever, _whatever_ Sam had become, it was all on Dean. That had been his one job, his one responsibility. And he had fucked it up.

It was worse than leaving Sammy alone, worse than any demon almost getting to him. He had let Sammy become a monster because he couldn't follow orders like a good son. He couldn't take the heat, take the burden, like a good brother. Dean must've covered his eyes and hummed to himself as Sammy deteriorated. When Dean went off to hell, Sam had run to Ruby. That was Dean's fault. When Sam had asked time and time again just to be shot, just to die as he was, Dean held his ground.

A lesser man, or perhaps a wiser one, might buy into this destiny nonsense. That it couldn't be helped, that Sam was meant for Lucifer. Dean wasn't one such man. He knew he had a choice. As he refused Michael, Sammy could have refused Lucifer. Or Dean could've made him. Dean could've listened to Dad, or to Sammy himself. The choice had always been there.

Still, Dean couldn't regret his decision. Given the opportunity, he knew he wouldn't do it. He _couldn't _do it. Killing Sammy had never been an option. So he rotted away in the motel room, willing himself to buy Cas' lies.


	3. Chapter 3

Major premise: If I owned Supernatural™ Crowley would be in every episode, because I love him.

Minor premise: Crowley is not in every episode.

Conclusion: I must not own Supernatural™.

DW/C[AOTL]

"So you're willing to die, for a pile of cockroaches. Why?"

"Because Dad was right. They are better than us."

"They are broken, flawed, abortions."

"Damn right they're flawed. But a lot of them try."

~Lucifer and Gabriel

Castiel knew. The end was nigh. He had known before he had pulled Dean from hell. But he had been so different then. Then he had been so sure, so confident in the plan of his Father. He knew that the end must come because his Father had said so.

But God was gone. His Father had walked out on them, on his children, on his pet project. Castiel's father was either dead or cared not for the fate of his creation. So, like teenagers left home alone, the head angels took over. They assured their brothers, like Castiel, that this was what Father had planned. But this was false.

Castiel knew that now. Castiel knew that the end was coming not because of Father or a divine plan, not because of fate, but because of his brethren throwing a tantrum with Daddy gone. They had given up on, had they ever had any faith in, humanity. They found the humans petty and fickle; and so much like jealous children, they wanted to be rid of them.

They knew not of humanity like Castiel did. Castiel knew that humanity was dirty, impure, wrathful, and self-serving; but humanity was beautiful. It seemed that all the angels that had come to know that, died. Castiel had once been greatly confused by Dean's struggle against his fate, against the angels. Now Castiel would go down with him. Life was precious, freedom was precious, humans were precious. Castiel had never understood how humans could have forsaken the garden and the blissful ignorance, and the immortality, for these fleeting and twisted lives. Now Castiel knew, he knew why Dean would die to stay free.

Castiel would die too.

For a moment, he had let himself become lost in 'Team Free Will'; going along with Dean and Sam, 'kicking ass and taking names', acting like there was a fight to be had, a battle to be won. That there would be a time where the brothers would go back to Wendigos and vengeful spirits, the apocalypse long forgotten. Maybe Castiel would come along, perhaps human perhaps angel.

Castiel could no longer escape the truth. These beautifully flawed creatures would die at the hands of his brothers. Sam was gone; Dean would not last much longer before cracking under the pressure and getting himself killed. Castiel would follow them. There was no place for Castiel in a universe without these humans.

So he fetched beer for Dean and drank the bitter liquid. Sometimes, after Dean had passed out on the couch, Castiel would smooth his tousled hair and dream of an alternate future where they could survive and maybe be together. Together like friends, or like Dean had been with Lisa, anything would be enough for Castiel. Anything was better than knowing that this brave and strong man, made in the image of Castiel's father, was breaking.

So Castiel took what Dean gave him, the good and the bad; for Dean was all he had faith in anymore.


	4. Chapter 4

Major premise: If I owned Supernatural™, there would be a musical special.

Minor premise: No such musical special exists.

Conclusion: I must not own Supernatural™.

AN: Change of plans! I knew not how to tie a bow on this puppy so I have a new idea.

DW/C[AOTL]

"I remember being at a shoreline, watching a little grey fish heave itself up on the beach. And an older brother saying, 'Don't step on that fish, Castiel, big plans for that fish.' I remember the Tower of Babel - all 37 feet of it, which I suppose was impressive at the time. And when it fell they howled, 'Divine Wrath!' But come on, dried dung can only be stacked so high." ~Castiel

Dean was cracking down the middle.

Sometimes when Castiel would come by, if he was lucky, he would catch Dean awake. Sometimes Dean would throw things, curse, holler, but anything was better than watching him twist in his sleep, screaming for Sammy. Dean's soul was breaking, as was Castiel's heart.

Castiel knew it was time. Time for his plan.

So as Dean lay there, dozing peacefully for a moment, Castiel kneeled by his side. With a heavy heart, watering eyes, and a trembling hand, he presses his fingertips to the side of Dean's skull.


	5. Chapter 5

Major premise: If I owned Supernatural™, I would not write fanfictions, but actual TV scripts.

Minor premise: This fanfiction and the relatively good quality of Supernatural™ TV scripts.

Conclusion: I must not own Supernatural™.

AN: Change of plans! I knew not how to tie a bow on this puppy so I have a new idea.

DW/C[AOTL]

Don't you dare look out your window darling

Everything's on fire

The war outside our door keeps raging on

Hold on to this lullaby

Even when the music's gone

Gone

~The Civil Wars feat. Taylor Swift; Safe & Sound

Dean opened his eyes the next morning warily. Waking up means little when you wake up to a dirty motel room with the curtains closed, door locked, and news inaccessible. No cases, no nothing. No life.

Castiel is sitting in the corner, looking at Dean guiltily. Dean ignores this, Cas always feels guilty.

"I have an idea to save your brother and the world," Cas begins. Dean stares.

DW/C[AOTL]

Dean watched Michael and Lucifer duke it out. He watched Cas and Bobby die.

He then watched Cas come back mysteriously, bringing back Bobby and even Sam.

Dean weeps for his family, for his sins, for almost letting go. In the back of his head he can sense something amiss. He can since an odd guilt still present in Cas' eyes. He pushes it aside, either he wouldn't understand or he wouldn't want to. He lets himself be at peace. Team Free Will has won.

DW/C[AOTL]

Cas pulls the curtains open one last time to see the diseased peoples, the fires burning. He sees dead angels, dead demons, blood and flames. With one last glimpse at the dying world, he transports himself to Dean, where they can grow old together in a matter of minutes. In a matter of the last few minutes they have.


End file.
